Clink
by liopleurodon
Summary: Right before Ricky, aka Zigzag, is sentenced to eighteen months at Camp Green Lake. -oneshot-


I should be writing a paper for English. Alas, I am writing Holes fanfiction instead. This one is for ZigZagBaybeh., who requested this one-shot. She invented Dawn Schneider. (I hope I got her right, and I hope you like it!)

I didn't invent Ricky/Zigzag's shirt, either. The link to where I found it is in my profile. :)

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"Dawn!" Ricky reached across the table and snatched the spoon out of Dawn Schneider's hand. Normally he didn't mind her nervous twitches-- he had gotten used to them. But today his nerves were shot, and it didn't help that she had been incessantly tapping the end of that damn spoon on the table for the last ten minutes.

Dawn's large brown eyes, which had been filled with anxiety a moment before, flashed with irritation. "Well, I'm sorry," she snapped. "I'm worried about you. One of us has to." She began absently drumming her fingers against the side of her sweating milkshake glass.

"I _am_ worried." Ricky's eyes darted nervously around the diner, and his voice dropped to almost a whisper. "It's a conspiracy, I told you. Against me, I mean. It's not like I did it on purpose. People have gotten off the hook for things much worse."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Good Lord, Ricky. It ain't a conspiracy! You set part of the school _on fire! _You should have known you would be sent to court."

"Yea, but they want to send me to jail because the spies think that—"

"Shh!" Dawn's cheeks flushed when she noticed that people at neighboring booths had overheard Ricky's outburst about spies. They were whispering to each other with raised eyebrows. How dare they judge him! They didn't know him! Not like she did. The two had been best friends since the third grade, when they had had to sit next to each other in art class. Ricky had accidentally knocked the tray of blue paint off of the table and onto Dawn's new white Keds. He had laughed like the little boy that he was, but he had also apologized profusely. Dawn still had those blue-splattered shoes in the back of her closet.

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?" Ricky gazed at her with those lovely blue eyes.

Dawn took in his crazy, frizzy hair, and then his t-shirt, which had the words _I like turtles _superimposed over a drawing of a turtle.

"No," Dawn replied. Ricky raised his right eyebrow a fraction. "Kind of. Well. Yes. But most of the time it's not even in a bad way."

"What do you mean?"

"Well… Sometimes you do funny crazy stuff. Sometimes you do stuff that's just plain crazy, and other times you do stupid crazy stuff. What you did at school would qualify as stupid-crazy. I mean, just in case you were wondering."

"I was wondering, actually. Thanks for informing me." Then Ricky snapped his fingers in the way that people do when they have just remembered something important. "Hey! Maybe _that's_ the reason why I have to go to court. It all makes sense now!"

Dawn delivered a swift kick to his shin. "Quit being a smart-aleck."

"Owwwww!" Ricky moaned theatrically. "That _hurt_."

"I know. That's why I did it."

He just looked at her.

"I mean, you don't seem very, I don't know, _seriou_s about this." Dawn looked him straight in the eye and emphasized every word when she continued," You. Could go. To jail."

Ricky slumped over in his seat and looked down at the fries on his plate. "I know, okay? I know. They told me that down at the police station, and my mom reminded me every five minutes when I got home. I just don't want to talk about it anymore."

Dawn nodded her head in silent agreement. "We won't talk about it anymore." She sighed. "Come on, let's go for a walk."

They paid for their food and stepped out into the bright Saturday afternoon. The diner was situated at the very edge of their town's business district, next to the movie theater and in front of the carwash. Dawn and Ricky's neighborhood was only a couple of blocks over, so they had been able to walk to the diner for lunch. Now they headed back the direction they had come at a slow, easy pace.

Neither of them said anything until they reached the end of the first street. Ricky was the first to speak.

"So… is anyone actually upset that the portable classroom thing is gone? I mean, everyone hated that thing. It smelled like moldy cheese.

"Cheese _is_ mold, you know. But no, I'm pretty sure nobody misses it."

"Mold is cheese?" Ricky looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Mold is not cheese. Cheese is mold. You didn't know that?"

"So I just ate a bacon and cheddar mold burger."

"Indeed," Dawn confirmed. "And I had chili-mold fries."

"Let's not talk about this anymore. I'm getting nauseous." Ricky laughed.

"Yea, me too."

They both stuck out their tongues and cringed in disgust.

After a minute of comfortable silence Ricky spoke up again, his voice quiet. "You know if they send me to prison I'm really going to miss you, as cheesy as that sounds."

Dawn jerked her head up to look at him. He was watching his feet as he walked his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He looked terribly sad all of a sudden.

"They--they won't—they won't send you to prison," Dawn stuttered.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they did. You said yourself that they might."

Dawn moved closer and linked her elbow with his. "Okay. They might send you to jail. But it'll only be for a little while."

"Only a little while for arson?" Ricky asked skeptically. "I don't think so, Dawn."

They were turning onto their street now. Dawn's house was the second one on the left; Ricky's, the fourth on the right. When they reached Dawn's house she released his arm.

"Do you want to come inside? My mom made that pretzel salad that you love so much."

"Nah, I'm gonna head home. I need to think."

"Oh. Okay."

"Maybe I'll eat some more mold," he laughed.

Dawn scrunched her nose. "Ew! You are crazy, see?"

"I know. See you tomorrow?"

"Uh, yea, tomorrow."

He looked at her for a minute. He really stared at her, with an unreadable expression on his face. That moment would be burned in her mind for the next year and a half.

Then, he bumped his elbow against hers in a sort of goodbye, and then turned and headed home. Dawn stood outside on her front porch, tapping her foot absentmindedly until her mother realized she was there, and asked her what she was doing.

Dawn sighed, assured her mother that she was just thinking, and then followed her inside.

Dawn ate a lot of pretzel salad that night.

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**Take that how you will.**

**This turned out quite a bit more depressing that I intended. Tell me what you think!!**


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